


Birthday Party

by silverskyfullofstars



Series: Adventures With A Drugged Sherlock [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Gen, Greg's birthday party, Sherlock hates birthday parties, Sherlock loves ginger nuts, sherlock is a lightweight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-20
Updated: 2017-06-20
Packaged: 2018-11-16 17:18:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11257368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silverskyfullofstars/pseuds/silverskyfullofstars
Summary: John manages to drag Sherlock to Lestrade's birthday party. Turns out Sherlock is a bit of a sentimental drunk.





	Birthday Party

**Author's Note:**

> I'm American. I tried. This fic probably sounds awful because it's a mixture of American English and little bits of British English I unconsciously picked up from watching too much Sherlock. For all your sakes, I hope it's legible and you enjoy!

“Sherlock, it's Lestrade's birthday party! We can't miss it!"  
John was nearly yelling over the sound of Sherlock's violin. It seemed to be getting louder, as if Sherlock was deliberately trying to tune him out. Now that John thought about it, he probably was.  
"I don't like birthday parties, John," Sherlock snapped, playing a shrill, squeaky note before stopping abruptly. "Too many... people. Too much talking and music and... laughter."  
"Oh for God's sake, Sherlock. There'll be cake there, if you go."  
"I'm not Mycroft. You can't bribe me with cake."  
"No, but I can bribe you with ginger nuts."  
"You wouldn't."  
"I would. Plus, Lestrade's the one who gets you half your cases..."  
Sherlock sighed heavily, almost theatrically. "Fine."

-

"You look ridiculous."  
"Oh, like you don't. With your scarf and your upturned collar."  
"And my cheekbones?"  
"You conceited git."  
"Why couldn't we have got a cab, John?"  
"It's ten minutes away!"  
"I'm bored."  
"You're always bored. Besides, I thought you were busy insulting my jumper."  
"It is quite stupid-looking."  
"Thanks, Sherlock. Love you too."

Their conversation carried them to the door of Lestrade's flat. Sound bubbled out from under the door, and light streamed into the hallway as John pushed the door open.  
"Happy birthday, Greg!"  
"John, Sherlock! Come on in!"  
Sherlock breezed through the doorway, still wrapped in his long coat.  
"Happy birthday, Gavin."  
"It's Greg!" Most of the people in the room knew Sherlock's habits, so it was a chorus of voices that corrected him. There was a good amount of people there: Molly Hooper, Sally Donovan, DI Dimmock, and various other members of Scotland Yard, even including -  
"You didn't tell me Anderson would be here, John."  
"Well, would you rather it be Mycroft?"  
Sherlock grimaced at Lestrade's proposal.  
"No."  
"Good, cause he said he wasn't coming. Go get a drink, Sherlock, have fun! Stop standing in the doorway, John's talked to four people already."  
"No thank you, I... are those ginger nuts?"

-

Hours later, most people had gone home, leaving only a slightly drunk group consisting of Greg, Molly, Sherlock, and John. Laughing at one of Lestrade's dirty jokes, John didn't noticed how tired Sherlock was until his curly head dropped onto John's shoulder.  
"Sorry guys, but it looks like we need to head home. Happy birthday, Greg. Bye, Molly."  
"Mmhmm... Happy birthday, Graham. Cookies were good."  
Slurring his words, Sherlock opened his eyes sleepily before getting up, leaning heavily on John.  
"You're a damn lightweight, Sherlock," Lestrade chuckled. "And it's Greg."  
"See you later, you two!" Molly waved as they made their way to the door. "Call a cab, John!" she yelled after them.

Out on the sidewalk, John did just that, hauling Sherlock into the backseat with some effort.  
"You know... for such an experienced detective you're a complete novice with alcohol."  
"I... don't drink."  
"I noticed."

A minute later, John felt a tap on his shoulder.  
"John?"  
"Yes, Sherlock?"  
The dark-haired detective yawned. "I still... hate birthday parties..."  
John laughed to himself. "Almost as much as you hate Mycroft?"  
"Oh... much more. But I like you, John. And ginger nuts."  
"Cookies more that your brother, Sherlock? Really?"  
"And you, John."

Even though a six-foot-tall half-drunk Sherlock was a pain to drag up the stairs, John found himself smiling as he shoved the sleepy detective into his bedroom, before heading upstairs to his own.  
"Ginger cookies more than his brother."

_"And you, John. And you."_


End file.
